


Inferno

by iqom



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hot, Humor, M/M, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Shameless Smut, Smut, Wet & Messy, bites into cheeto, boy its hot, dont take this seriously yall lmao, experienced Mettaton, experienced Papyrus, papyton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iqom/pseuds/iqom
Summary: When the temperature gets a little too high, Mettaton goes into heat. Oneshot; pure, unadultered, silly smut.





	Inferno

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MylCreates](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MylCreates).



> Myl requested this based on a great mini-comic she drew of Mettaton overheating and going nuts with Papyrus. <3 This was so freaaaaaking fun to write, hahaha.

Mettaton and Papyrus stood perplexed, staring at the solid sheet of white powder before them where they expected a view of Mettaton’s expansive front porch.

“Looks like we’re snowed in, darling,” remarked Mettaton, shutting the door. On the drive to Mettaton’s Chevy Chase mansion from the Human-Monster Relations Winter Ball, flecks of snow were falling lazily but determinedly from the sky and alighting delicately on the windshield. It seemed that, in the time it took to pour his skeletal guest a glass of sherry and continue the friendly conversation they had started at the event, the sky had opened and emptied its frozen dryer lint onto the streets of Maryland enough to prevent any sort of easy entrance or exit from the house.

Their friendship had blossomed at the event earlier that evening; Asgore ended the festivities early due to the threat of inclement weather just as their conversation really began picking up. Naturally, Mettaton opened up his home to Papyrus for a few hours and _naturally,_ Papyrus accepted with overwhelming enthusiasm.

Papyrus laughed incredulously. “I don’t think even Snowdin ever got that much sn… what?” Mettaton was staring at him.

“Snowdin… _snowed in…_ is that a pun?”

Papyrus’ face crumpled in disgust. “It better not be!”

Mettaton giggled. Papyrus’ feigned hatred of puns was very amusing to him; especially when the skeleton gave in eventually and laughed at a particularly taxing one.

Mettaton couldn’t even pretend to be disappointed about the predicament. “You’re welcome to stay the night. My guest room should be made up.”

Both parties were duly aware Papyrus would not be spending the night in Mettaton’s guest room, but Mettaton figured he should stay polite.

Despite the undeniable sparks flying between them.

Despite Papyrus’ earlier confession that he had obsessed over Mettaton for years and years in the Underground.

Despite the fact that Mettaton’s cheeks burned every time he caught Papyrus staring at him in his winter formal attire (a rather gaudy, fur-lined, spicy little number custom-made to accommodate his pauldrons)... like, _literally_ burned red-hot. The metal of his face was conducting intense heat emanating from the roaring fireplace, certainly enough to melt the skin of a human palm. Convenient that Papyrus’ bony hand would be impervious to the heat when it inevitably caressed his face… _slow down, gorgeous,_ he willed himself mentally.

Mettaton sauntered over to the fireplace and settled stomach-down on the plushy rug in front of it, extending his legs out behind him and looking back over his shoulder at Papyrus, who was still hovering by the door staring at him with a mysterious expression painted on his face. The oppressive heat of the fire combined with the heavy fabric and fur of his outfit was taking his body temperature to overwhelming heights… and _god,_ did it feel good. Something rather delicious was stirring within him as he relaxed down onto one elbow, turning his attention to the flames licking the fake log and waiting for Papyrus’ approaching footsteps.

Approach he did; carefully but with confidence. Papyrus plopped down cross-legged on the floor next to Mettaton and-- in an unexpected yet very much appreciated gesture-- boldly rested a palm on the small of his back, sending a violent shiver through the robot’s body that he was certain Papyrus could feel. They were keeping up the semblance of friendliness, as if somehow they both believed Papyrus’ hand was sitting there casually.

The _if_ had been answered; now it seemed to just be a matter of _when._

“Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” Mettaton murmured after a moment, staring intensely into the fire until his vision slipped out of focus. _God,_ it was hot. He could feel the cogs in his chest clicking at almost twice their normal pace, his soul sweating tendrils of viscous magic in its container. This couldn’t be good for him… and yet, it certainly _felt_ good.

This heat was really doing a number on him.

“Well… we are next to a fireplace!” Papyrus responded plainly… and yet his hand was slipping ever so slightly downward…

Mettaton couldn’t stand it anymore. He straightened up and leaned closer to Papyrus, his shiny black lips twisting into a lascivious grin. “Any hotter than this, and you could say I’m _in heat._ ”

“O-oh!” Papyrus stammered, his hand landing in his surprise on Mettaton’s ass and very purposefully staying there. Click! The final straw.

Something wild and savage overtook Mettaton in that moment; magic roared in his ears like cascades of magma, he could feel his heart-shaped pupils dilate to an overwhelming degree, the heat was spurring him on, encouraging him, he wanted nothing else in that moment but to be… be used, brutally... right here...

“Right here,” Mettaton hissed, pushing Papyrus flat on his back and scrambling on top of him with the desperation of a starving man; chest heaving, wet steam billowing from his vents on his cheeks, strands of his forelock sticking to his face, eyes burning, “I want you to take me right here, Papyrus--”

Papyrus laughed breathily, eyes wild with shock. The events of the night were certainly _heating up_ quicker than both of them had expected. “Y-you don’t wanna… go t-to the bedroom?”

“I can’t wait that long.” Mettaton sat up on his knees over Papyrus, his fingers struggling to find purchase on the clasps down the front of his velvety outfit before giving up and stripping the fabric away at once, revealing his chestplate; his soul splattering the inside of its container as it beat violently against the glass pane (Wowie! How erotic!); his silicone cock bulging through lacy black panties. “I need it right now, right now, oh _god,_ it’s fucking hot!”

Papyrus didn’t need to be asked twice. His hands shot up to Mettaton’s face and pulled him roughly down to his ribcage, crushing the android’s scalding lips against his own mouth. “ _Aghn!”_ The android was voracious; forcing apart Papyrus’ teeth with his eager tongue and shoving it in his mouth. Moments later, Papyrus' own sprung into existence and gave Mettaton what he sought after; a noisy, wet, orgiastic session of jousting tongues.  

Mettaton was no stranger to sexual encounters --certainly not to French kissing, oh _hell,_ was that robot familiar--  but this was like nothing he had ever felt before. Something about the temperature of the room combined with Papyrus’ extraordinary zeal nearly matching his own was truly driving him into an undiscovered country; one that happened to be about a billion degrees Fahrenheit.  

Papyrus pawed at Mettaton’s ass and mewled, his voice wet with desire, as Mettaton’s hungry lips dropped to his boxy chin, neck vertebrae, smooth collarbone. His strangled moan vibrated pleasurably against Papyrus’ sensitive ribs as Papyrus began to grind his hips upwards between his legs.

“You really wanna do this on the rug?” Papyrus grunted as Mettaton began fumbling clumsily with the skeleton’s belt. Mettaton whined in frustration as the buckle stubbornly refused to unclasp. Papyrus took that as a yes, assisting Mettaton with the belt and allowing the desperate robot to yank his dress pants and boxers to his kneecaps.

Mettaton’s eyes widened at the sight of Papyrus’ ecto-penis; orange, glowing, girthy, bobbing slightly with anticipation before him. “Y-you’re _big…_ ” Mettaton breathed incredulously. Papyrus outdid his own length by at least four inches, if not more; and Mettaton wasn’t small by any means.

Papyrus was simply gargantuan.

The skeleton flushed heavily--partly attributed to by the truly stifling heat of the room-- and reached up a trembling hand, lovingly combing his phalanges through Mettaton’s damp hair. The gesture made Mettaton’s soul thrill; his head began spinning, vision blurring… was it the heat, or was he falling in love? Possibly both?

Who cares about that, anyway? There was no lubricant. Mettaton chewed his lip; this could be remedied.

Papyrus yelped in surprise as his cock disappeared into Mettaton’s mouth all at once. Mettaton grunted as his angular nose brushed against bone, the sound rumbling in his throat and thrumming deliciously on Papyrus’ hypersensitive magical skin. Papyrus’ previous partners had taken their time (perhaps intimidated by his size), carefully teasing with their tongue before taking it not much farther than halfway.

Mettaton, unlike humans, had no gag reflex. He was on a mission. A pleasurable mission, for sure; Papyrus tasted delightful, and the noises he was making were tantalizing.

Papyrus’ eyes rolled back into his skull; his moans became decidedly more loud and wet as Mettaton’s mouth applied a perfect amount of pressure, flattening his length somewhat between his soft black lips. Mettaton sucked diligently, bobbing his head, determined to bring Papyrus right up to the edge but no further… that goal was reached quite quickly; Mettaton raised his head just as the skeleton’s legs began to shake. His length was now heavily coated in pink saliva, gleaming in the firelight. Perfect.

Mettaton clambered forward, his blazing desire burning in his stomach harder and brighter than it had before…

“Could I possibly… ask a favor?”

Mettaton waited, his body quivering violently. Papyrus was staring into his face, drinking in the scene; Mettaton, the very portrait of desperation. Mettaton could see in Papyrus’ eyes that this was a dream come true for the skeleton, and this knowledge only further roused his ravenous lust.

“Before I… I mean, when we were underground…”

Mettaton swallowed loudly, his impatience clear.

“I used to imagine, ah, bending you over--”

 _Jesus_ fucking _Christ… that’s hot!_

 _“WARNING! INTERNAL TEMPERATURE: FIVE HUNDRED. AND FIFTY. TWO. DEGREES. COOLDOWN SYSTEM COMMENCING."_ The automatic alert distracted Mettaton only for a moment; his fans switched on with a _whirr_ ing sound, bringing him back to Papyrus’ request.

Mettaton leapt into action, nearly tripping over his own feet as he scrambled upwards, collapsing over his coffee table and shoving the magazines and sherry tumbler out of the way with a great sweep of his metal arm. “Just hurry up, for god’s sake!”

Papyrus practically fell on top of Mettaton, the flimsy fabric of Mettaton’s panties coming apart easily between his hands as he tore them from the robot’s body. _Wowie._ He was already well aware that Mettaton had a fantastic, perfectly round and almost impossibly large ass, but it was so much better without clothing covering it. How many times had Papyrus rewinded the recording he captured of Mettaton accidentally dropping the microphone on his show and bending over to retrieve it? Too many to count.

Now, the celebrity robot was wiggling his perfect hips and whining softly… for Papyrus.

The skeleton ran a phalanx down the middle testingly, relishing in Mettaton’s body shuddering violently in response. “D-Darling, _please_ …”

Papyrus wasn’t cruel. Straightening up on his knees, he bent over Mettaton and guided himself in with one hand until his pelvis connected with soft, plushy silicone.

An alarm began to sound from the speaker on Mettaton’s chest; high pitched and shrill, piercing Papyrus’ ears. “W-what’s going on?” he stammered, his voice almost drowned in the wailing alarm and Mettaton’s wet panting.

Mettaton pushed back desperately against Papyrus. “Ignore it!” The robot was aware that the glass tabletop was melting under his chestplate; his system was dangerously overheating; but Papyrus was filling him in a way he had never felt before and that’s all that mattered. Drunk on ecstasy, he squealed with delight as the skeleton slammed roughly into him, bony fingers digging sharply into his sides.

“Oh, _god--_ that’s it-- that’s it, honey-- oh Christ--” Papyrus pushed nonsense from Mettaton’s lips with every thrust.

“ _WARNING! INTERNAL TEMPERATURE: SIX HUNDRED. AND EIGHTY. DEGREES. ATTENTION REQUIRED."_

“M-Metta-- ah--”

“ _Ignore it!”_ Mettaton screamed hastily.

A cacophony of moans, gasps, cries, alarms, and alerts filled the sweltering living room. Papyrus didn’t have much of a sense of temperature, but Mettaton’s body was so hot that even he could feel it. The robot was screaming, saliva sizzling against his metal chin as it dribbled out from the corner of his slack-jawed mouth.  

“Fuck me-- fuck me-- _fuck me-- ah-- Papyrus-- almost-- almost--_ ” Mettaton’s words melted away into more utter nonsense. Papyrus began to thrust even faster than he had before, his ecto-tongue lolling from between his teeth. He could feel familiar pressure building quickly in his groin; he tensed up, putting the pedal to the literal metal as he chased down his orgasm… closer… _closer…_

“ _WARNING! INTERNAL TEMPERATURE: EIGHT HUNDRED. AND TWENTY. EIGHT. DEGREES. EXPLOSION IMMINENT. EMERGENCY SELF-DESTRUCT IN. SIXTY. FIFTY NINE--”_

As the flood of shuddering pleasure overtook him-- _self destruct?!_

Papyrus jerked backwards in a panic, showering Mettaton with cum just as the robot followed suit, convulsing, screaming into the surface of the table.

“ _FORTY EIGHT. FORTY SEVEN--”_

Mind spinning, delirious, desperate; Papyrus looped his arms around Mettaton’s middle and heaved the robot mid-orgasm off the table. Mettaton seemed to not even notice; he was still shaking, splattering himself, moaning in a voice three octaves higher than its normal pitch…

Without a second thought, Papyrus flung open the door and pushed the naked robot into the snowbank.

 _Hisssssssss._ Mettaton’s limp body sank forward as he melted the snow. Papyrus collapsed to his kneecaps, his legs still shaking from the severity of his orgasm, heart thrumming in intense fear. The countdown hadn’t stopped.. he couldn’t be responsible for the death of Mettaton… certainly not like _this_... why isn’t it--

Silence.

Mettaton attempted to stand and collapsed backwards; Papyrus scrambled to catch him, wincing sharply as he was unable to prevent the robot’s beautiful head from smacking against the floorboards. The freezing night air began to fully permeate the room.

Papyrus’ inclination to lecture kicked in at once. “Mettaton, you _must_ be more careful! I had no idea that you even have the _capability_ of exploding, next time I insist that you inform me if you are in any danger...” He faltered. The robot was not responding. _Oh, please…_

Mettaton’s eyes fluttered open. He smiled.

“I… I know you hate puns, darling, but there’s only… one way to describe that…” he whispered, “That was  _hot._ ”

Papyrus groaned, and then laughed. Obvious, maybe; and holy ravioli, he hated puns... but admittedly, that was a good one. 

**Author's Note:**

> [View Myl's comic here! ](https://iqomton.tumblr.com/post/171189396461/inferno-iqom-undertale-video-game-archive)


End file.
